


It Takes A While

by nastyK



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Gym, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mako goes to the gym, Malnutrition, Showers, Slow Burn, art included, au: modern, i'll tag as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 01:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15474951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastyK/pseuds/nastyK
Summary: Mako sees someone he doesn't recognize at the gym.





	It Takes A While

**Author's Note:**

> HI HELLO I'M WRITING AGAIN!!!  
> I've had this idea for a while now and I thought I'd give it a go! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Mako knew every face at the gym. There was no other place he spent more time at, so he might as well keep track of the people he sees almost every day. He knew the jocks, the receptionists, the middle-aged moms trying to get their 20’s body back, the weightlifters, the walkers and joggers, the ones with the loud headphones. So it was a little strange to see a tall, grey hooded figure hobbling on the corner-most treadmill. From where he was standing, he couldn’t see this person’s face, but he could tell they were new. The person was hunched over, and wore dark, long baggy pants. It seemed every inch of this person was covered up; they even wore gloves.

There was something… unnatural about them. Their weight fell on their right leg with a loud _thump_ and one of their arms was clutching onto the treadmill without a sign of ever letting go while the other arm twitched and moved around the machine and its handles.

Mako exhaled loudly and resumed his exercise. _A new face, huh?_

__

 

A cold shower after sweating his ass off felt like heaven. Mako couldn’t help the guttural hum that escaped him the moment the cool droplets danced on his bare skin. Everything was blissful save for the fact that the stall was a little small for his size. Still, he could turn around and wash himself with relative ease. He closed his eyes and let the gentle stream explore the bumps and curves of his body.

Then he heard the bathroom door open, followed by uneven-sounding steps. Then he heard bones cracking and the strained, or relieved, sound of someone stretching. A good ten seconds passed and he heard unzipping, and for a moment, grunting and whispered cursing and what sounded like a struggle to get clothes off. The person took a couple more steps and presumably sat on a nearby bench. The sounds that followed were hard to describe: straps, belts, or perhaps velcro coming off and hard plastic and metal banging against the floor. Mako half wanted to peek out and see what was going on, but decided against it. Then he heard… hopping? Just a single, constant step coming closer and closer. The stall next to his was opened, and the white noise of water spraying down doubled.

“Hooley dooley, that feels good,” praised a high, grating voice. Mako didn’t know this voice. Must be the stranger. Mako was not sure whether to respond or remain quiet. The voice, which was that of a man’s, didn’t speak up again.

Mako didn’t like to shower at the same time as other people. Didn’t like drying off in front of them either. So to avoid any contact with the stranger in the current situation, he waited it out. Unfortunately, the stranger took a _long_ shower. He didn’t even know if long showers were allowed here, but the stranger didn’t seem to care. When the stranger finally came out, _thunk_ -ed and struggled all over again and left the bathroom, Mako turned his own shower off. He felt like a massive raisin, having been under the water for that long. Eventually he dried off, dressed up, and left.

__

 

Mako wasn’t a morning person. He preferred going to the gym at noon or during the evening, but never in the morning. This time, work messed with his schedule. He felt he couldn’t miss a day of work-out, so he decided that perhaps going to the gym at 5 AM wasn’t such a bad idea.

The gym was apparently closed at 5 AM. Opened at 6:30. Mako rubbed the bridge of his nose after reading the sign on the door. He was heading back to his car when he realized he wasn’t alone. There was a ratty, old pickup truck just a few parking spaces away from his car. He didn’t recognize the vehicle. Looking at the dashboard window, he noticed the driver seat was all the way down, and the windows were all halfway down. Out of sheer curiosity, he decided to walk past the truck. His height allowed him to see clearly into the window without looking like a creep, and what he saw was… surprising, to say the least.

Curled up like a baby was a grown man sleeping soundly under a thin blanket. The man was too tall to fit properly, so the gear lever and other bits and bobs of the car’s inside were painfully sticking against the man’s body. Still, he slept with no problem. Mako felt a little weird for staring. The man couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty five years old.

The man had sunken eyes and bags that hadn’t gotten a sliver of rest in at least a week. Mako couldn’t quite tell if he had sharp features or if he was malnourished.

He sighed and turned to his car; maybe he’ll follow suit and catch a nap before gym opens.

__

 

6:00 AM rolled around and Mako groaned as his phone vibrated in his hand with the “Snooze” option bright on the screen. He cracked his neck and got off his car. He looked around and the truck and another familiar car are the only ones there.

The gym lights were on, so he decided to go in. Before he set foot near the gym, though, he heard the truck door open and close behind him. He looks back and sees the man hobble towards the building. He was wearing the same grey hoodie he’d worn the other day, same baggy pants and his hands were gloved. So this man _was_ the stranger.

He thought he’d look more lively awake, but instead his eyes–though bright in color–were dull and unfocused. His lips were dry and white. He looked like a zombie and his awkward walk didn’t help him look any less dead.

The man caught Mako staring, and blinked. Mako looked away, refusing to look flustered; he kept walking and got to the door. He held it open for the stranger.

“Ta,” the man murmured.

Mako couldn’t help but feel something foul stir at the pit of his stomach.

__

 

The stranger was taking a break in his corner, sitting against the wall. Mako noticed because he was trying to do some heavy lifting, but the kid was just sitting there. Staring. Mako glanced at him every now and then but the man avoided his sight. Mako could feel the eyes on him every other moment though. There were other people around by now, so why was this guy staring at _him?_ What was so special about Mako?

...Then again, Mako was huge. Now, he wasn’t really self-conscious about his weight or what people thought about it. He knew he was living a healthy lifestyle, and he knew he had muscle where it counted. He just wasn’t sculpted like an Adonis. His stocky legs and protruding gut could make anyone believe he was simply obese. People liked to make fun of fat people at the gym, he knew. But he didn’t let that affect him. He knew what he was about—and there was no getting rid of his belly at this point. He focused only on raw strength and resistance, not weight loss.

But the man wasn’t _laughing_ at him. He wasn’t spaced out either. He was studying Mako.

__

 

It was Friday evening and Mako was going to a pub with some mates later that night. He got to the gym and quickly dumped his spare clothes and accessories—a new hair tie, a silver necklace and several gold rings—into his assigned locker. Soon as he left the room to begin his exercise, the stranger slid inside with a quiet “S’cuse me.” This time, the stranger had a tattered bag with some patches that looked too… _unique_ to be store-bought. Mako paid him no mind.

A couple of stretches and weights later, Mako noticed the stranger was taking an awful long time in the changing room. But just as the thought sparked up it was shut down when the man came out of the room. He walked past Mako and set his bag next to the treadmill he’d claimed as his own by now, and began to walk.

Mako watched him this time around. He was wearing the same clothes again, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. His hobble had somehow gotten a little less awkward. It was still horrible, but he was making an improvement. Did the kid have a bad knee? Was this exercise “prescribed” or something?

Mako checked his phone and realized he was a little bit late for his event. He hurriedly headed for the lockers and grabbed his belongings. He went for the showers, cleaned up quick and dressed up. He wore a plain white top under a black leather jacket and deep blue jeans. He adorned himself with his silver chain and his—

His rings were missing. He patted himself and looked around to no avail. “I could’ve sworn…”

He was sure he’d brought the rings. But they were nowhere to be found. He searched his bag, his locker, his car, and nothing. Maybe he’d left them at home…?

__

 

He didn’t go to the gym on the weekend. Didn’t feel right Saturday morning and it wasn’t just because he got absolutely smashed the night before. He lay in bed for hours until a dry mouth and a rumbling stomach got the best of him.

He got up and stopped to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked unfocused, his lips cracked and colorless. For a second, he reminded himself of the stranger. Come to think of it, he’d never seen the stranger take a sip of water while working out.

He blinked. Why was he thinking about the stranger? Unable to answer his own thoughts, he left his room and headed towards the kitchen. He grabbed one of his 700 milliliter water bottles and took a deep swig. Cold freshness spread through his body like rapidly growing roots and he savored it. An idea sparked in his mind.

__

 

Work kept him busier than usual, so he arrived a little late to the gym Monday evening. He spotted the stranger in his usual corner, just about to finish his round of walking. The stranger turned the machine off and sat against the wall next to it; he threw his head back and closed his eyes. Mako swallowed, and then slowly approached the man. His looming figure blocked the lights and cast a shadow on the guy below. The stranger opened one eye and focused on Mako; his other eye followed suit. He looked around for a second, then quickly sized Mako up and then finally focused on his eyes. “Uh… Can I help you?”

Mako sometimes forgets he can be intimidating. Before the kid could get the chance of feeling threatened, Mako pulled a cold, dripping water bottle from his bag and offered it to the smaller man. He looked at the bottle, then at Mako, confusion in his tired eyes.

“You,” Mako cleared his throat, “You never bring one, so…”

“Oh,” there was genuine surprise in the stranger’s voice, “Yeah, yeah… uh, thanks, mate,” his right arm slowly reached for the bottle and then his gloved hand awkwardly clenched around the bottle. It was almost mechanical. The odd grip his hand had could barely sustain the bottle in place as it almost slipped out of it. His left hand quickly grabbed it by the bottom and, strangely, the man’s face looked frustrated for a split second. Mako noticed all this, but in a way he could tell the man didn’t want him to.

Mako said nothing as the man took deep gulps of water. Some of it trailed down his pointed chin and Mako couldn’t help but stare. The man had downed most of the water when he stopped drinking. Mako felt like he’d been standing there for too long, so he turned around and headed to the changing room. He sighed. He’d just done something nice, he thought, but he felt… like shit? The stranger looked thinner—even under those stupid clothes he always wore. His cheeks were hollower than they’d been the week before. His skin looked a sickly kind of pale…

 

Mako thought he knew what was going on.

__

 

Mako assumed his shower neighbor was the stranger again. He made the same noises as before, but this time he didn’t speak. It seemed like a normal shower for a while, until he heard the curtain swing open, wet steps hurriedly making their way elsewhere, and then the unzipping of a bag, he guessed. Then he heard plastic crinkling, the steps heading back and then the curtain closing again.

Mako rubbed soap under his arms and across his chest. When he rinsed himself, he heard the neighboring shower spray loudly trickling into a container.

Mako turned his back to the shower head and looked down. The curtain isn’t long enough to reach the floor, so from his standing position, he can see a little bit of the stall next to his. He saw a pale hand peek past the curtain, and place the water bottle he’d given the kid a few days ago, now full of shower water, on the floor.

Some time passed, and the stranger finished. Mako was still staring at the bottle, and he couldn’t tell if he’s feeling pity. The curtain slid open, and he saw a wet hand grab the bottle and an equally wet foot oddly move across the floor. Mako turned off his own shower, but didn’t exit. He’s considering it, but he’s not sure why. He doesn’t hear anything from the other end for a while.

Eventually the stranger finishes up and leaves. Mako exits and does the same.

__

 

The next day, Mako was surprised to see the stranger chatting with the receptionist at the front desk. Mako was surprised to see him _smiling_. It set something off inside him he hadn’t felt in a while. He shuddered and walked past them. He noticed the stranger staring at him as he went. He heard the conversation dwindle and suddenly he felt his heart racing when he heard awkward footsteps approach him. “Hey, buddy!”

Mako took a deep breath and turned around. The man looked awful as always—wearing those same damned clothes—but he was smiling. It was a wide, toothy grin that looked a little more threatening than it did friendly.

“Uh… hi,” Mako felt incredibly awkward.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you. Again. For the water, I mean,” the stranger giggled, but it was a nervous kind of laugh. “Anyway, you, ah, kinda left before I had a chance to… ask your name?”

“Oh,” Mako looked around, embarrassed. “It’s, uh ...Mako.”

“Mako,” the stranger repeated to himself, testing the word on his tongue. “I’m Jamison! Nice t’meet ‘cha!” He offered a gloved hand and Mako took it. It’s almost comical how small the hand is compared to his.

The handshake went on for a little too long before they both pulled out of it. Jamison looked like he wanted to start a conversation with him, but couldn’t quite find the words. Mako didn’t really know what to do either.

“My uh, my treadmill broke down,” Jamison blurted out. Then he laughed a little too loudly before he stopped himself.

“Is that so,” Mako thought about Jamison referring to the treadmill as _his_. “You know there’s other exercises you can do, right?”

Jamison laughed again. Mako was starting to find it annoying. “No.”

_No?_

“Guess I’ll just… sit around and watch you lift some.” Jamison smiled and placed his hands in his pockets. Mako raised an eyebrow but shrugged and turned around. He walked towards his weights and Jamison followed like a lost puppy. Mako was not entirely sure how to feel about all this, but one thought floated around his mind for a while.

_His name is Jamison._

__

 

It had been a couple of days and Mako wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the attention he was getting from the kid. He’d been sitting closer to him, for one, just observing him. He’d speak every now and then and Mako would hum a response. He felt a little embarrassed when he noticed the other guys looking at them.

Then the treadmill got fixed. Jamison quietly returned to his old routine. Mako now felt a little empty, without the boy looking at him like he was a handsome bodybuilder.

...So maybe Mako liked the attention a little.

__

 

Jamison waved at Mako with a grin as he walked on the treadmill. Mako gave him an awkward smile and headed over to the lockers. He stashed his things away and began his routine.

It had been almost an hour and Mako was staring at Jamison. He was having trouble keeping up with the treadmill, his head bobbed slightly and Mako realized something was not right. He approached Jamison, slowly, then quickly when suddenly Jamison’s leg didn’t take another step and he tripped. His whole body gives in to gravity as the treadmill violently shoots him off onto the floor. “Jamison!”

Mako crouched on the floor and turned Jamison’s body around. He was cold and unconscious. Mako looked around the room and people were surrounding them; someone told the receptionist to call emergency services and she did as told.

Mako didn’t know what else to do. The kid was cold yet sweating; he felt his chest to be sure his heart was still beating. Sure enough it was.

Minutes passed and Mako couldn’t stand seeing him wearing the heavy hoodie, so he manhandled him until the thing was off. Jamison wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath. Mako’s chest hurt when he saw the tight muscle cling to his skin, how his rib cage expanded and contracted with each slow breath. His left arm had several track marks. Then he noticed his right arm. Beneath a burning skull tattoo, he had a bright, orange prosthetic arm that could only open and close by tightening his upper arm muscles. Unaware of the stares and whispers, Mako felt up Jamison’s “bad” leg, and was greeted with hard prostheses.

Mako swallowed hard. He folded the hoodie and placed it under Jamison’s head for support. Then he waited.

It seemed like it was all he could do.


End file.
